It's Easy to Get LOST In Time
by wavesparkle7217
Summary: LOST/Primeval crossover. Lucy Jacobson is going out with Captain Ryan and they get stuck with Cutter when the anomaly leading to to the LOST island closes behind them. They are now their own clique struggling for survival, a way to get home, and answers.
1. In The Beginning

Flashes of light made the dark bedroom into a eerie dream world. Cars rushed by outside the flat. The room was cold outside of the warm embrace of the covers.

I was awake before I knew what had awakened me. The faint beeping of a pager in the dark brought me back from the brightly colored world of my dreams. I shifted, adjusting my body so the spring that was digging into my hip was beside it again. The television had been muted, but the hockey commentary was still playing, so I must not have been asleep long.

The man beneath me was already awake, his hands folded back behind his head as he listened to the muffled sound of his pager. His chest hair rustled beneath my cheek as he drew in a breath.

"That'll be another monster from the past," he whispered, breaking the quiet contemplativeness of the night. "He has to call at bloody midnight."

Tom Ryan's British accent and the smelled of his toothpaste awakened me fully. I hugged him closer.

"Do you have to go?" I whispered.

"Duty calls. And it has teeth." He joked about possible death the same way I joked about possible injury. Easily. As if he thought it was no big deal, just part of the job. It was.

He rolled over and sat on the edge of the double bed, reaching for his underwear. I sat up on my side of the bed, pulling the sheets tighter around me to fend off the cold. I watched him dress in the ambient light of the television.

"Can I make you some coffee?"

"There's probably not time. I'll get some tea when I'm done." I closed my eyes, crumpling up my cheeks. _Stupid American,_ I scolded myself. He was buckling on the various SAS instruments when I climbed out of bed. Running a comb through my hair as I pulled on my underwear, I looked on the chair where my suitcase rested for something to wear.

The Canucks jersey and jeans weren't the cleanest things in the suitcase, but they were the only thing I was willing to wear at twelve o'clock in the morning.

I grabbed his keys before he could get there and threw a smile over my shoulder. "I'll drive you there an bring you over some tea," I told him, closing the door to the flat behind me.

As soon as I arrived in the street, I realized I should have grabbed a more substantial sweater than the hockey jersey. My legs, stiff from a late practice, protested the use so soon after the cessation of movement.

I hopped in Tom's car (it was always weird driving on the wrong side of the road) and started the engine. He arrived just as the heater had begun to push off the last vestiges of cold. It was a good heater.

He read me off the address and I concentrated on driving the weird English way until we arrived at the scene. They had tea there.

"Thanks," Tom, er, Captain Ryan, told me, holding back a goodbye kiss as his men joined him for a briefing. He shut the door behind him. I rested my head against the steering wheel, closing eyes that burned with more than tiredness. I figured I would just wait here. I hadn't brought a book or anything, so I might as well just sleep. Hockey wasn't typically on the radio here in England, so I just turned the car off.

After a while, I began to get quite cold. Rather than restart the car, I climbed out and went to grab some tea myself. I would have preferred coffee, but the beautiful government brunette beaconed me over just as I was considering heading to a café or something.

"We've got coffee too," she commented, handing me a cup as came over. The silence stretched, becoming awkward.

"What kind of anomaly is it this time?" I ventured, curious and eager to break the silence.

"We're not sure," she replied, mindful of secrets, but just as eager to banish the awkwardness. "We think it's contemporary, actually. Some sort of tropical climate."

"That's interesting," I muttered. And that was all heck broke loose.


	2. And Fire Bubble

There was shouting from the inside of the small building that housed the latest anomaly. I moved forward to stop the confusion, but found the door blocked by the lithe government brunette.

Narrowing my eyes, I hissed, "Those who guard me have an odd habit of ending up hip-checked into the boards."

She moved aside and followed me in, protesting. The shouts had put me in to my fierce game-mode, ready to do whatever it took to ensure Tom's safety. I knew he could take care of himself, so sue me for being a bit of a mother bear.

What I saw made me feel as if the puck had hit me in the temple. I blinked, tugged at me ears to clear them, and then decided that what hovered before me was not a hallucination.

The brunette gasped behind me. A huge column of think, black smoke moved throughout the room, grabbing things and people to upend as it clicked and seethed. I grasped at a weapon that did not exist, then threw the cup of coffee I still held right in to the middle of the smoke beast. It clicked louder, more eerily, and retreated thought the fading anomaly. Frantic, I searched for Tom's black-clad body and short blond hair.

I sighed with relief as I saw he was safe. Then the smoke sent a tendril back through and pulled the head scientist through the anomaly with it. Captain Thomas Ryan charged after his commander, right through the quickly fading anomaly.

I was leaping through the anomaly before I realized my stiff and aching legs had the strength to carry me across the room without skates on. I landed hard, rolling through lush moss and decaying leaves, fearing the clicking that intruded on the pounding of my heart in my ears. I realized I was screaming.

I stopped, rolling to my feet in a face-off crouch, having grabbed a downed branch when I came up. I scanned for the smoke beast or the men, but I found neither. What I found was the lack of anomaly. I backed up, still scanning for the smoke beast, but the lack of clicking made me think it had gone.

I stopped, eyes popping, bruised but adrenaline-pumped muscles freezing at the bump into my back. I spun, throwing a hard check into whatever assailed me, the foliage that grew in place of ice tripping me up. Ryan met my shoulder with a steel fist. Me both staggered back, me breaking into relieved laughter.

"Oh thank God you're all right!"

"We need to find Cutter," he told me tersely, bring the hand that didn't clutch his machine gun up to rub his shoulder. The dull aching where he had hit me didn't really bother me. I'd had worse. We turned back to back again, and walking together, we searched for the scientist.

We found him leaning against a tree, holding together a gash where he had hit a tree branch full force. I hoped that was his only injury.

"Are you… what happened…" I stammered, only now beginning to feel the let-down of adrenaline.

"It let me go," Cutter told us," slumping to the ground. I then realized there was blood. A whole lot of blood. Way more than there possibly could be. My head began to feel very light, stars shimmering at the edges of my nauseous vision. I had flunked out of cop school in Montana because of my reaction to any semi-substantial amount of blood. What spattered a hockey rink was about all I could deal with.

Tom was there, holding me up, supporting limbs that threatened to make like quicksand and drag me into oblivion. He soothed, stroking my hair, and set me down against another tree before he went to Cutter. I did some deep breathing while Tom bandaged the other man.

Tom was sitting beside me again when I remembered the lack of the anomaly. "Tom…" I started, but he silenced me with a kiss.

"Shh. It's okay." I wondered vaguely whether he used this calming tactic with his men. "He's all bandaged up. We've got to get back to that bloody anomaly."

"That's what I was trying to tell you -- it's gone. It closed when I came through." I looked up into his beautiful, brave blue eyes and saw shock, but it was quickly repressed.

"We should just check," he squeezed my hand to tell me he believed me, but continued nonetheless. "Just to make sure."

He helped me up, then motioned to Cutter. _Will you be alright?_ his eyes asked me. I nodded and began to retrace our steps. The men followed. I realized I was still clutching the stick I had grabbed when I came through the anomaly. I kept it, telling myself it was the comfort of having a stick in my hands that drove the decision. The sweater was all the comfort I needed. The stick was just in case the smoke thing returned. Okay, I was lying to myself and it wasn't very convincing.

We must have searched for an hour before Cutter collapsed again. We decided to make camp, and I went into to the nearby foliage to relieve myself. I found a huge grove of tropical fruit. And a polar bear.

I was really starting to hate this place.


End file.
